


Cloying Claws

by Anonymous



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22708879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “I’m scared,” Wrathion replies suddenly.
Relationships: Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36
Collections: Anonymous





	Cloying Claws

“Come _on_ , Wrathion! Let’s go!”

Anduin Wrynn stands tall, a bright smile upon his face and a hand shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun beating down on him from atop the small rock jutting from the earth he stood upon. A great, sloping hill sprawled out beneath him, covered with thin, swaying trees that coated the forest floor with their soft spring leaves. His face is slick with sweat from the hike, seeping into headband and stray droplets coating the top rim of his tabard. “Hurry up!” he yells.

A rumbling growl answered Anduin’s call as the boy grins. A smallish, gangly black drake clambers into view over the lower hilltop, face pinched with annoyance. “Shut up,” it hisses at him, one claw planting itself firmly into the ground as the beast hoists itself up. “I’m going at my own pace.” Lanky, awkward limbs jut out as the dragon stumbles over a stray rock, tail flicking with annoyance as the beast’s head swivels to smack into a nearby tree.

“Wrathion, please let me help you,” Anduin says with mild exasperation as the dragon bumps into another rock. “The foliage is thick here, and y-”

“No,” Wrathion snaps, heaving himself up over the rock and clambering up to pause by Anduin. “I’m fine.” The dragon cranes his neck forward, nosing at Anduin’s stomach before teeth clamp carefully around the loose folds of Anduin’s tabard. Wrathion lifts his head, ignoring Anduin’s squawk of indignation as he lifts the boy up and continues his ambling trek upwards.

“Shee? Fah,” Wrathion mumbles smugly through a mouthful of cloth as Anduin twists half-heartedly in his grasp and sighs.

After a few stumbling, painful minutes of several mild concussions, the two reach the peak of their climb. A small, shady clifftop lays out before the pair as Wrathion opens his jaws and lets Anduin fall to the ground with a thump. The boy groans as the dust swirls beneath his belly and a plume of black smoke whiffs past his eyes and catches in his throat. He coughs twice and pushes himself upright, rubbing his eyes. He crosses his legs and blinks as they are immediately filled with a dark-skinned, self-satisfied boy who seems content to nestle himself against Anduin’s chest even as shadowy puffs of air still roll off his shrinking form.

“Making ourselves comfortable, are we?” Anduin quips as he wraps his arms around the other and smiles.

“A little. If you were fatter you’d be a softer seat. You’re all bone and flimsy muscle,” Wrathion says simply with closed eyes and a smug look upon his face.

“My deepest apologies,” Anduin drawls, lifting his head as he tucks Wrathion firmly against his chest and peers out over the clifftop. A massive expanse of green lay out before the cliff, bamboo trees towering towards the sky, cloaking the land below in gentle shade and lines of shadow for predator and prey alike to lurk within. A gentle buzzing filled the air as insects flitted to and fro, singing in time to the rustling of the leaves and soft whispers of the wind. The fresh scent of flowers and spring filled the air, tickling Anduin’s nose as he wrinkled his brow and smiled.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Anduin remarks as he gazes over the cliff.

“It has,” Wrathion says idly, rolling the palms of his hands over Anduin’s knees. “It smells wonderful.”

“The Jade Forest always did have that certain scent in the air. Like a constant spring.”

“Mixed with Hozen dung.”

“Well, I can’t smell that. That’s all for lucky you,” Anduin chuckles, tapping the tip of Wrathion’s nose. The dragon snorts in response.

“And it’s good? No damage, no strife?”

“It’s gorgeous,” Anduin murmurs, running a hand over Wrathion’s forehead as his fingers travel up to crook and sift in the dragon’s hair. “Everything seems peaceful and untouched.”

“I’m glad,” Wrathion breathes quietly, leaning into the touch. “I really am. I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” Anduin muses as he shifts, letting Wrathion’s head loll into the crook of his shoulder. “You know I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I know,” Wrathion says simply.

“Then what?”

Wrathion sighs through his nose as he buries his face against Anduin’s neck and inhales. “I just worry sometimes. About the state of the world. Even if it’s just small, like this.” His fingers curl around the hem of Anduin’s sleeve and the blonde suppresses a shiver as a heated puff of breath ghosts across his collarbone. “I can’t help you anymore.”

“Of course you can, Wrathion,” Anduin replies with a gentle smile as his hand stills in the dragon’s locks. “You are the farthest thing from useless. But-” he continued over Wrathion’s noise of protest, “I can also handle a lot more by myself. I _have_ been declared fit to rule, you know.”

“Maybe,” Wrathion grunts in disproval as Anduin chuckles into his hair. “I don’t trust that verdict. At the very least, you’re not as completely and disgustingly hopeless as you used to be.”

“The highest praise you’ve ever given. I’m touched.”

“I’m scared,” Wrathion replies suddenly. Anduin’s hold tightens as his chest knots. “I’m scared, Anduin. What if I can’t even make it to your crowning?”

“You will. It’s not-”

“You don’t know that!” Wrathion snaps, shoving his hands against Anduin’s shoulders as he pulls away. “You don’t know!”

“Wrathion-” Anduin began desperately.

“ ** _LOOK AT ME_** _!_ ” Wrathion snarls, fingers reaching up to grip Anduin’s cheeks as he forces the blonde’s face to his. Anduin inhales sharply as his eyes meet Wrathion’s own. Two dull, cracked orbs stare blankly back at him. Fiery crimson has faded to veiny white, covered slightly by eyelids crinkled with anger and desperation.

“ _Look at me_ ,” Wrathion repeats softly, voice breaking with each word. “Because I can’t even look at you.” His face falls forward against Anduin’s shoulder. “I can’t look at anything.”

Anduin lets out a shuddering exhale, his own eyes slipping shut as Wrathion curls in his lap. His chest feels leaden as he pulls Wrathion firmly against it, arms encircling the other as tightly as he could as he buries his nose in the other’s hair. He can feel their heartbeats hammering together, almost completely in sync as Wrathion makes a wordless noise as Anduin squeezes him tighter.

“I wake up, poof! Blind as a bat, oh, we all know the Emerald Flight had a good laugh,” Wrathion continues with a muffled voice. “What’s next? My heart, my lungs? ‘Oh, Wrathion, I know it’s bad but be _grateful_ it wasn’t a _vital_ organ’!”

“I’m sorry,” Anduin says finally, voice quiet. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you.”

“Oh, _don’t_ ,” Wrathion says exasperatedly as he lifts his head and for a moment Anduin almost smiles – that indignant, arrogant tone is so preciously familiar and terribly scarce of late. “Don’t you dare. We both know there’s nothing to be done.”

“There is always something to be done,” Anduin states firmly.

“Not according to my _makers_ ,” Wrathion spits as he digs his claws deeper into Anduin’s arm, pinpricks of pain following as the tips pierce the cloth to scrape against his flesh. “Mother knows best after all, isn’t that what they say?”

“Just because the Red Flight did not have the answers does not mean they do not exist,” Anduin replies softly, lifting his free hand to stroke the nape of Wrathion’s neck. “There is still time.”

“Their little experiments is the cause of it all,” Wrathion replies sullenly. “Cellular degradation-”

“Can still be stopped,” Anduin says firmly, tightening his hold on the dragon.

“Rhea wrote it was the inevitable end result of an amalgamation. What else is rotting inside this monstrous body, I wonder?”

“She wrote _possible_ and you **damned** well know it. It is _not_ concrete, so stop talking like it is! There is _so much_ in this world you love-” Anduin pauses as his voice begins to crack with grief. “So why are you so intent on giving up?”

Wrathion goes silent in his arms as Anduin lets out a long, shaky breath. The dragon does not reply, only shifts in the blonde’s arms as Anduin leans over to press his temple to the top of Wrathion’s head.

“I’m sorry,” Anduin says quietly, eyes shut as he listens to Wrathion’s short breaths against his chest. “I’m scared too. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to be lost,” Wrathion replies finally, voice small and muffled against Anduin’s shoulder. “But I feel like I am.” The dragon’s grip tightens as he lifts his face upwards, blank eyes blinking slowly as he stares past the blonde.

“I don’t want to die,” he whispers feebly. “Anduin, I don’t want to die.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Anduin murmurs, lifting a hand to cup Wrathion’s cheek. “We will find a cure. We can stop this, I promise you.”

“You can’t promise that,” Wrathion says quietly.

“I can,” Anduin retorts firmly. “And I will. You will be fine, Wrathion. I will find a way to stop this.”

Wrathion grunts after a moment as Anduin’s fingers stroke along the side of his cheek. “I know,” he says finally, pulling his face away as he shoots the blonde a half-smile. The dragon shifts and turns in Anduin’s lap, moving to rest the back of his head against the other’s throat as he tucks the blonde’s arms around his waist and lets his eyes slip half-closed with a small sigh. “You’re not good for much,” he quips suddenly, a hint of a laugh in his voice. “But I suppose if there’s anyone blindly stubborn enough to do this, it’s you.”

Anduin smiles as he lets Wrathion settle into him, tucking his chin atop wavy black curls as he listens to the other’s heartbeat slow. “Of course. I wasn’t a disciple of Chi-Ji for a lack of hope.”

“That bird prattled too much.”

“So do you,” Anduin points out with a grin.

“I do not. My words are simply more worthwhile than the rabble’s. I’m doing others a favor when I speak at length.”

“My selfless prince,” Anduin snorts, lifting a hand to muss Wrathion’s hair.

“Shut up,” Wrathion sniffs, leaning away from the offending hand with a half-grin. Anduin lowers his arm as Wrathion settles back against him. The two simply sit there in silence as a gentle breeze flows over the clifftop and rustles the leaves above them. The rays of the setting sun wink over the treetops below as the steady beams of light begin to fade with the approaching dusk.

“Thank you,” Wrathion says finally. His voice is quiet and calm, his breathing slow. Anduin hums in response, rubbing small circles on the dragon’s hips and lowers his head a bit to rest his cheek against Wrathion’s.

“If I die, you should make a crown out of my skull.”

“No.”

“Oh, why not?” Wrathion says cheekily, wriggling in Anduin’s grasp as the boy sighs tiredly. “It would be an impressive way to remember me by.”

“That’s disgusting. I don’t want to wear you.”

“What about armor from my claws?” Wrathion continues casually, lifting his hands to flex them experimentally. “I think I spotted something similar on your father’s.”

“I would rather treasure them,” Anduin says simply, catching Wrathion’s hand in his as he lowers his head to brush his lips over the dragon’s knuckles. “I’m going to do the protecting this once, okay? You can trust me.” Anduin smiles and gives the Wrathion’s hand another peck as the dragon snorts.

“Oh, if I _must_ ,” Wrathion drawls with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Don’t go slacking off then, _your majesty_.” The dragon turns his head to give Anduin a quick kiss on the cheek as the blonde chuckles in response.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, _your_ majesty,” Anduin simpers as he rubs his nose against Wrathion’s and captures the dragon’s lips with his own. “There is so very much life I want to live with you.”

Wrathion snorts. “As you wish, your majesty.”

“I-”

“Your majesty?”

“What?”

“Your majesty!”

Anduin Wrynn starts, palms slapping to his desk as he jolts up straight and blinks thrice rapidly. A woman in polished blue armor stood over him, a stack of papers in her arms as she peers worriedly down at him. Anduin stares blankly up at her before his head swivels, taking in the tidy shelves lined with books and the parchments and quills scattered in front of him as his office comes into focus. He blinks again as the woman gently taps the side of the massive pauldron adorning his shoulders.

“Your majesty?” she tries again. “Are you alright?”

“Mm?” Anduin says numbly. “Oh? Ah, yes.” His hand finds his forehead as he pushes his bangs from his eyes, fingers grazing over the golden, jeweled band encircling his temple. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m afraid I think I dozed off for a bit.”

“Do you need to retire to your room, your grace?” The woman shifts the papers in her arms as Anduin smiles.

“No, that’s alright. Place them here. I assume they need the king’s signature?”

“Yes, your grace,” the woman replies as she hefts the stack atop the desk with an audible thump. “Troop movement clarification and a few dismissals. There’s also a meeting with General Braun in three hours,” she pauses and shoots him a small smile. “Just in case it had slipped your mind.”

“It had,” Anduin sighs, massaging the brow of his nose as he eyed the tower of forms. “Thank you.”

“Of course, your grace,” the woman replies, dipping into a small bow. Anduin nods at her, discouraged gaze still firmly on the papers when the woman leans over and plucks something off his desk. “Apologies, some dirt must have fallen off me. Or something?” She turns over the item in her palm, brow furrowing as Anduin suddenly looks to her and starts. “What is this?” she muses.

“No!” Anduin says suddenly, hand extending towards her. “Ah,” he continues as the woman freezes. “Sorry. That’s mine.”

“This? My apologies, your grace!” The woman passes the token back to him as Anduin’s palm curls firmly around it. “I didn’t mean-”

“No, it’s quite alright,” Anduin says hurriedly as his hand reaches for his neck, fishing out a small, golden locket from behind his raiment. “Simple mistake.” He fiddles with a tiny brass knob at the edge of the necklace’s groove before the small hinges swing forward. Anduin presses the item inside before promptly snapping the locket shut and tucking it back beneath his clothes.

“Ah,” the woman says simply, a look of feigned neutrality on her face as Anduin coughs once and steeples his fingers.

“Is that all?” he asks, forcing a smile as the woman nods once in response.

“Yes. By your leave, my grace.” She dips into another bow as Anduin nods and picks up the quill upon his desk. He plucks a sheet of paper off the tallest stack and bends his head as the woman turns and crosses the room, one hand on the doorknob before she pauses and looks back.

“Sir, I know it is not my place. But may I ask-”

“It is a reminder,” Anduin says quietly, not looking up from the paper as the quill remained poised between his fingers.

The woman gives the minutest of nods before slipping through the door, the echoing click of locks sliding back into place the only sound in the room as Anduin stares blankly down at the parchment. After a few moments he lowers the quill to the desk and leans back in his chair, raising his eyes to the ceiling. His left hand rises to his chest, instinctively sifting past the armor and light shirt he wore beneath to free the locket once more. Practiced fingers twist the knob until a faint click is heard and the necklace swings open as Anduin tiredly lowers his gaze to the pendant between his fingers.

The tip of a small, curved claw rests in the hollowed space of the necklace, blackened and chipped with age. Anduin simply sits and watches, a single thumb gently brushing over the item before he snaps the pendant shut once more.

“A reminder,” Anduin says quietly as his eyes slip shut and his hand lowers. The necklace makes a soft clinking sound against his armor as Anduin stares blearily up at the ceiling and exhales slowly.

“Of a promise I did not keep.”


End file.
